


You're My Teenage Queen

by pearl_o



Category: Fall Out Boy, My Chemical Romance
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-11-16
Updated: 2007-11-16
Packaged: 2017-10-03 19:06:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,112
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21255
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pearl_o/pseuds/pearl_o
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Isn't that Gerard Way's baby brother? Isn't he, like, sixteen, dude?"</p><p>"What difference does that make?" Pete said, still staring dreamily toward the stage.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You're My Teenage Queen

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to fox1013.

On last count, Pete Wentz had fallen in love at first sight sixteen times.

Number seventeen was standing on stage this very minute, with floppy hair and skinny hips and a bass guitar.

Pete sighed. "I'm in love."

"Again?" said Joe.

"It's different this time." Pete gestured expansively towards the bassist.

Joe squinted towards him. "Isn't that Gerard Way's baby brother? Isn't he, like, sixteen, dude?"

"What difference does that make?" Pete said, still staring dreamily toward the stage.

*****

Probably introducing yourself to somebody and following up with "So I think I'm in love with you, and also I like your glasses. Want to make out?" was a bad idea. Pete could see that. He decided to go with the music gambit instead.

This is what Pete learned about the guy in the first half hour: his name was Mikey. He was indeed Gerard Way's baby brother. He was sixteen, starting his junior year of high school next week. (Pete managed to stop himself from responding to this statement with, "That's hot.") He was very knowledgable about bands, with good taste. He didn't talk a lot, but he was funny, in a really dry, sarcastic way. He didn't smile a lot, either, but when did, Pete thought his heart was going to stop from the way it changed his entire face.

This is what Pete learned about Mikey Way in the second half hour: Mikey was actually really very susceptible to the "Wanna make out?" gambit.

*****

The night before Mikey's band was heading back to Jersey, Pete dragged Mikey out with him to watch the sunset. They lay down in some abandoned field, the overgrown grass coming halfway up their sides, and watched the stars.

Pete held Mikey's hand. They were both silent for a while, turning on their sides to face each other. Pete could hear them breathing in tandem.

"It sucks that you have to go," Pete said.

Mikey bit his lip. "I need to get an education, though, I guess," he said philosophically.

"Whatever, Mikey Way. I could teach you here. High school sucks. I'm awesome."

Mikey's lips formed the faintest of smiles. "What would you teach me?"

"Lots of things," Pete bluffed.

"Oh, yeah?"

"Uh-huh," said Pete, and he leaned forward the few inches between them to kiss Mikey.

Mikey rolled onto his back, pulling Pete with him, and they made out in the grass, rubbing against each other through two hoodies and two t-shirts and two pairs of jeans.

Mikey's underwear stuck up an inch or so above the waist of his jeans. Pete slipped one hand one hand between the waistbands and Mikey's warm skin. Mikey sucked in a sudden breath.

Pete bit Mikey's ear and said, "Hey, so, can I do something?"

"Sure," Mikey said breathlessly, "do whatever, Pete."

Pete laughed and worked on awkwardly unfastening Mikey's jeans with one hand. Mikey's dick was hard and hot, and Pete pulled down his underwear far enough so he could see it. Mikey made another soft breathing noise when Pete wrapped his hand around it.

"So, okay, I'm just going to--" Pete started, and then he moved down Mikey's body so he could take it in his mouth.

Mikey shook beneath him the whole time and came really quickly. Pete knelt up to spit out into the grass, and then lay down again and kissed Mikey on the mouth.

"So was that new?" he said.

"No," said Mikey, shaking his head a little. "But. It was different. With you."

Pete smiled and laced his fingers with Mikey's. "See. Teaching you. It's awesome." He brought their hands together down to his crotch, pressing them against his own dick, hard in his jeans.

"You're practically a scholar," Mikey agreed.

"Just don't tell your brother," Pete said, "I don't want to go to jail," as he undid his own pants so he could stick Mikey's hand inside.

"Stop talking about my brother," Mikey said, and kissed him again.

*****

Patrick refused to let Pete title _any_ of their new songs "My Jailbait Boyfriend Is Hotter Than Yours" or "I Might Go to Prison But At Least I'll Go Happy." It was tragic, really.

Pete soothed his pain by sending Mikey dirty text messages. Mikey did not really think fifth period study hall was the right time for discussing cocksucking or his great ass, but Pete held other opinions.

*****

Mikey turned seventeen in mid-September. Pete flew out to visit him for a weekend at the end of the month.

The age of consent in New Jersey was only sixteen, so Mikey was, like, _triply_ legal now. Mikey's brother Gerard still seemed wary every time he saw them cuddling on the couch together, or the few times he accidentally caught them groping. It was possible Gerard also had his suspicions that Pete was not actually sleeping on the sleeping bag on the floor in Mikey's room. Pete wasn't sure how thick the walls were between Mikey and Gerard's rooms.

"What?" Pete said finally, on the last day. Mikey had gone to the bathroom, leaving Gerard and Pete sitting around the kitchen table, and Gerard was staring at Pete, and it was a little creepy.

"Sorry, it's just." Gerard fluttered his fingers towards Pete. "I mean. Don't you have any friends your _own_ age?"

"Yeeeeeeeah," Pete said slowly. "So what?"

Gerard just shook his head and turned back to his cup of coffee. He still gave Pete these suspicious looks out of the corner of his eye every once in a while, though.

*****

"No," said Mikey. "I don't want you to take me to prom."

Pete lay back on his bed and made a face, even though Mikey couldn't see it through the cell phone and thousand miles between them. "You're hurting me, Mikey Way! Why not?"

"Because," Mikey said calmly, "it would be creepy."

"I would want you to take me to _my_ prom," Pete grumbled.

"I was in middle school when you had your prom, dude. That's kind of the point."

"Whatever, that's dumb," Pete said.

Mikey said, "Prom's pretty lame anyway, though."

"I could nail you in your tux in your mom's car! It would be poetic!" Pete said.

"Or," said Mikey, "we could just hang out in my room and listen to CDs and eat pizza and do it on my bed."

Pete thought about it for a moment. "That sounds pretty good, too," he admitted.

Mikey giggled softly. "We can play sleazy guidance counselor and innocent freshman again, if you want. You know. To make it up to you."

"Mikey Way," Pete said sincerely, "I love you. You know all the ways to my heart."

"I try," said Mikey.


End file.
